The Scarlet Pimpernel: Our Story Continues
by LisaB1991
Summary: What happens after the events of the Scarlet Pimpernel? This is what my imagination came with. Percy and Marguerite are together again, but they are unsure about eachothers feelings. Will their love survive?  making summaries is not my strongest point


**Pimpernel fanfic ch.1**

When Percy entered his cabin and closed the door behind him, he felt a strange sort of satisfaction. To be honest – this was the most daring adventure he had ever experienced. As he opened his closet and took a clean white shirt, breeches, a waistcoat and his cravat, he whistled softly.

He bathed, shaved and changed into these extravagant clothes, which he preferred to any form of disguise in general. An adventurer at heart he might be – he still sensed that the feeling of rich satin, priceless Mechlin lace, the choking cravat around his neck, his fair hair tied back.. that was what he preferred.

As he thought about the previous hours, days to be precise, he couldn't help but looking back at these events with mixed feelings. Lord Grenville's ball, Marguerite's betrayal of which he had learned from Ffoulkes, his interesting encounter with M. Chambertin – excuse.. Chauvelin – and then the scene at Richmond. How he had longed to take her in his arms there and then! How he had longed to kiss those demmed tears from her eyes and cheeks.

Almost.. almost he had stood there with his heart in his hands, just like two years ago, during their courtship. He was ready, oh so ready, to give her all that he was, all that he could give. But, alas! he did now know, could not hope! Hope that she loved him. He was sure there was something – perhaps she cared for him, yes! Yes, she must! Because he saw no other reason why she had gone to France otherwise. To save Armand? Possibly, but had he not given her his word of honor that her brother would be save? That she need not fret about Armand? She must care for him, otherwise she wouldn't have screamed his name in agony, her voice choked with tears.

He sensed, that from this day on, all would be different. Good or bad, he did not know! But it was time to reveal all his secrets, all things he had kept from her. But only if she would let him see into her heart. If not, all would be lost and no happiness possible without this woman's love.

Percy had left Marguerite into the loving care of her brother. Very carefully, she had removed her stockings, after which she washed her feet and ankles. All the mud, tiny stones and dust were washed off of her little feet. She somewhat felt better already. She closed her eyes and could feel Percy's burning kiss on her toes again. That small kiss said more than a thousand words.. If only..

She allowed Armand to examine her feet closely, to ensure no wounds would get infected. He decontaminated the wounds and bound them with linen. There was no real damage done, but her muscles would be stiff for some time.

As she leaned into her brother's chest, she slowly drifted into a peaceful slumber, only to be awakened by two gentle but strong hands, lifting her from the ground. She was held closely, her head leaning on this person's inner shoulder. She was aware of five mumbled words: "Be good to her, Percy."

Percy carried his half unconscious wife across deck, towards his cabin. As he lowered her upon the soft, beckoning bed, she whispered something he couldn't hear properly. He looked at her face, large blue eyes staring back at him, full of tears. He felt an electric shock down his spine. The moment seemed to last an eternity, before he could bring himself to tear his gaze from her lovely face. She still had her arms around his neck, loosely, but if felt for him as if she was the world, her arms being the centre. It was as if he was dragged into it, and he could not, he would not! He would not resist. But he should. So he did. He was disappointment in her eyes as she pulled away.

"I think your Ladyship would prefer a bath? In order to wash that demmed filthy French dust from your body, that is." He turned and disappeared through a door. She did not know where this door led, or if he would return. Alas! She did not even know whether he loved her or despised her.

She sat up, lost in thoughts. Those moments on the beach, not very long ago, gave her hope – hope that he still cared for her. Had he changed his mind?

He came back in a few minutes, carrying a pile of clothing. "I ordered a bath for you, m'dear, it shall be ready in a few minutes time. Now if you will allow me, I've taken the liberty of locating some clothing which you might want to wear once we reach Dover.." he laid the pile right next to her, upon the bed. "Not the latest of fashion, I must confess, but I reckon you prefer these instead of this gown in which you spent, what? Thirty hours?"

Marguerite could not help but smile. Oh that sweet, inane half shy laugh of his! How it had irritated her once! Now it sounded like the bells of Eden: the promise of everlasting peace and happiness, yes! Yes, he was still there. And she would win back the ardent love of her husband, who she loved more than life itself.


End file.
